


Trust Excercise

by watashi_no_akuma_to_notatakai



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 17:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2660081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watashi_no_akuma_to_notatakai/pseuds/watashi_no_akuma_to_notatakai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically a bad smutty Drabble that stemmed from the passion Murphy and Bellamy seem to both have for hanging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Excercise

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to aiblossom.tumblr.com and papabellamy.tumblr.com for sucking me into the shitstorm hell that is The 100 fandom.

"Bellamy...ah!" Murphy gasps out his name with a strangled breath. The sound makes Bellamy's cock twitch and he tightens his grip on the leather collar around Murphy's throat.  
Bellamy releases a heavy sigh against the nape of Murphy's neck as he presses his length against the brunette's lower back.  
"Do you trust me?" Bellamy whispers, breath tickling against the shell of Murphy's ear.  
"Just shut up and fuck me already." He tries to speak in a steady voice that comes out more as a whine.  
Murphy's thighs tremble at the weight of Bellamy on his back, his elbows and knees pressed into the plush mattress. He's getting light-headed from the lack of oxygen but damned if he's going to complain already.  
"You always were the impatient one." Bellamy laughs as he leans back to press a finger against the other brunette's entrance.  
The collar loosens around Murphy's neck as Bellamy works his fingers inside, pressing up to the knuckle. Murphy wishes the cloth would bite deeper into his neck so that he could reel his mind back in from the intense euphoria generated by Bellamy's fingers.  
"Agh...Bellamy. Just- hurry up."  
"I want you to beg."  
Murphy has his face pressed deep into a pillow but doesn't need to turn around to know exactly how wide the smirk on Bellamy's face is.  
"Fuck you." He mumbles, turning his head farther into the cushion, as if to cut off his breathing even more.  
"I want to hear you say it." Bellamy pushes three fingers inside, deep enough to graze the spot that has Murphy discarding the pillow to arch his back like a feline.  
"Please! Bellamy, please fuck me."  
Murphy's hands grip the sheets, whether from pleasure or irritation Bellamy can't tell.  
"My pleasure." He leaves hot trails of breath and bite marks across Murphy's shoulder and along his spine as he enters him.  
The collar tightens.  
Things usually went like this. They would argue back and forth, loving to hate each other, until one broke down enough to beg the other for release. If he was asked, Murphy could only describe sex with Bellamy as a trust excercise, not that he would admit to trusting anyone.  
Murphy trusted Bellamy with his life.  
Knuckles turned white as Murphy's hands gripped the sheets, and Bellamy grasped at Murphy's hipbones. Curses and undefinable noises left both boys' mouths as they fed off of each others body heat and motion.  
Murphy wasn't sure how it happened, but one day Bellamy had entered his world out of the blue. For the first time in his life, Murphy had chosen to break his golden rule; trust no one but yourself. With no father, and a no-show alcoholic mother, Murphy had learned from early childhood that trusting people to love you was a fools quest. Yet Bellamy had thrown it all to shit; fucking stolen the only heart he had left, had tied a proverbial rope around his neck and asked Murphy to trust him. Trust him not to remove the table from beneath his feet.  
And Murphy did. Trust him. Still did.  
"Murphy, fuck. you look so good like this."  
With the leather cutting into the space above his Adam's apple, and black fading into the edges of his vision, Murphy didn't say a word. Because he trusted Bellamy not to break him beyond repair.  
Murphy hummed in pleasure against gritted teeth as Bellamy thrust into him, repeatedly.  
The pace became more erratic, uncontrolled, as Bellamy moaned into the space below Murphy's jaw. Like blazing trails through a forest, the lines that Bellamy's nails made as they dragged across Murphy's skin would take time to fade.  
Though they were nothing compared to the aureate hue of colour that would be Murphy's throat in the morning.  
Bellamy fucked him, it was hot and needy and fast. Bellamy's right hand found its way into Murphy's hair, tugging at the long strands, and it would almost be painful if Murphy didn't like it so much.  
"Bellamy, Jesus! Fuck, ah...fuck!"  
Murphy felt heat flare between his legs as his every catch of breath became less and less frequent.  
Bellamy pounded into him, sparking lights behind his scrunched eyelids as he shivered at the feeling of fullness.  
The supple material felt almost melded into his skin and Murphy spent his last ounce of energy trying to hold his unresponsive limbs up as he came in heavy rivulets across the sheets. Bellamy felt Murphy clench around his cock and the insurmountable heat of Murphy below him had Bellamy coming seconds later. They rode out the aftershocks of their orgasm together and Bellamy collapsed with a prolonged sigh, against Murphy into the mattress.  
The collar slackened.  
Murphy tried not to make a show of catching his breath but couldn't hide the relief in his frame as his body trembled, lungs taking in the previously denied air.  
"Thank you." Bellamy mumbled into the crown of Murphy's hair.  
Murphy relished the feeling of Bellamy's release streaming along his thighs and pressed his back against Bellamy's chest.  
"For what?"  
"For trusting me."  
Murphy contemplated the sentiment, the leather collar, though extremely loose, still tied around his neck.  
"It's fine." He replied. The noose was not tightened. And Murphy had not fallen to his death. Bellamy hadn't kicked the crate from underneath him.  
At least, not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at smut so...


End file.
